


Double helix

by Betnhe



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Sex, Fluff, FrostIron - Freeform, IronFrost - Freeform, Loki Feels, Loki is a romantic but in a scary kind of way, Loki wanted his own chapter so I obliged, Loki's POV, M/M, Memories, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prostitute as substitute, Sexual Content, Smut, The fluff levelled up to schmoop I think, Tony angsts a bit, Tony has serious issues, i have no idea how to tag this, some non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betnhe/pseuds/Betnhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony deals with the aftermath of his encounter with Loki at the top of his tower - badly. Loki is imprisoned and recalls the same encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wrong place, wrong time

"I found you this one. Nice, isn't he? Long black hair, like you asked, ah, I see in your eyes you will take him."

Tony Stark ran his eyes over the naked body of the young man he was offered. Black hair, long limbs, pale skin... God, how he hated this charade. His desire burnt deep within, always, safely tucked away until he could no longer ignore it and he had to fuck someone to shreds to placate it. 

He nodded at the owner of the whorehouse. "He'll do."

Ten minutes later he was naked, kneeling on the bed, sweat dripping off his skin into the dark velvet sheets while he thrust his cock deep in the tight ass of his property for the evening. No, he couldn't wait, he couldn't take his time. He didn't care the boys screams were laced with pain, it only made him harder, and while he made sure the only sounds escaping his own lips were low moans, his body reverberated with the name of the object of the horrible, twisted desire that had been haunting him for months: Loki.

It had started a few days after the battle against Loki and his Chitauri. He'd been watching the footage of their encounter, just before everything went to hell. He'd been watching the _extended_ version, not the tapes he'd sent to SHIELD. The version no one had seen except for him, no one had _lived_ except for him.

Perhaps he should not have made that joke about performance issues. Loki had smiled, after he said that, slammed him into the ground, and taken everything, in a terrible, methodical way, as if there had not been a war outside and the trickster had no army to lead, no world to conquer. Afterwards the god had discarded Tony, tossed him out of the window like some used rag and he had barely been able to save himself from plunging to death.

The battle played out as it did. They all survived and ate shawarma and Loki was silenced, bundled up and sent off to Asgard per Tesseract Express and nothing, _nothing_ , had been able to satisfy Tony’s desperate need since.

He wanted revenge. He wanted to turn the tables and show the alien bastard who’s boss on planet earth. He wanted to shove his dick so far up Loki’s ass it would count as a fucking blowjob. And as he fucked his boy whore, the darkness inside of him swelled until it devoured him from inside and he came, hot and bitter and repulsed by what he had become. 

If the world saw him now, their precious golden boy, Iron Man, Tony Stark, their hero, spent over the body of a crying prostitute, his fingers tangled in the sweaty black hair. What would they say? What would Cap say, when he saw the son of his best friend debase himself like this? But the image of Steve Rogers warped into the gaunt, mocking features of the god of mischief and his cock twitched when he recalled the corrupting smile, the feral grin that preceded his undoing.

He was so done for.


	2. Anchor me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki relives his "moment" with Tony

His prison, his cage. A glass wall put him on display for all the Aesir to gape at, the cuckoo, the Frost Giant, their former prince. But these days few came to visit him. Only his mo- _Frigga, not his birth mother_ \- and Thor occasionally appeared, showering him with their pitiful gazes and sorrowful words. He ignored them until they went away and after a while they stopped coming and he was left entirely to himself.

Fortunately, while they could detain him, they could not imprison his mind and his thoughts were still his own. Were once again his own, for the hold of the Other was broken and he was free of the feverish spell that had enslaved him to Thanos and his cruel and terrifying lady love.  
He supposed he should repent his actions as King of Asgard. His invasion of Midgard was not so much an issue as Odin had personally woven the enchantment that protected him from Thanos. His attempted genocide had actually met approval of the King of Asgard (though not officially), but sending the Destroyer after his bro- after Thor had not gone down well with the All-Father (no father of mine!). Parental neglect was apparently only a valid appeal in Midgardian courts and Odin had sentenced him to be detained indefinitely, or until he saw fit to release his wayward (adopted) son.  
Yes, he was supposed to repent, but in truth he felt wronged and his pride felt wounded (and his soul damaged by the nth rejection of his adoptive father but he didn’t dwell on that).

Instead he filled the hours with planning and plotting, imagining all the ways in which he would avenge this humiliation.

Avenge...

_If we can’t protect the earth, you can be damn well sure we’ll avenge it._

_Tony Stark. Iron Man._

He’d been so cocksure, so utterly convincing - except you can’t lie to the Liesmith and Loki had seen beyond the iron stare, beyond the arc reactor, straight into the heart of the man who confronted him without fear. Who confronted him without fear because he had nothing to lose.  
One moment of insecurity, when Loki had raised the sceptre to bring Iron Man under his control and the man had feared he would be turned against his comrades while he had been soliciting a quick, heroic death, but when the sceptre bounced the mask slipped back into place and he had continued to try and goad the Trickster into killing him.

For a moment Loki had felt as if he was looking in a mirror. Underneath his bravado Tony Stark was broken, a soul who’d been through so much terror it had come out on the other side as a twisted, darker version of the original, leaping at every chance to embrace the void.  
He hated it. He hated the weakness, loathed the vulnerability, was disgusted by the reflection of his mutilated self in the eyes of this stunted, short lived ape.  
He’d grabbed the man by his throat to shut him up and had thrown him to the ground. The look he received when Stark was scrambling to his feet though... While he made his token protests, his pupils were dilated and the atmosphere had suddenly been laden with a heavy sense of desperation, a dark current of want and need and craving that overshadowed everything, even the unbreakable mental chains the Other had bound Loki in.

Without his armour Iron Man was only just that, a man. A man who depended on technology to keep him alive. But he was also Tony Stark and his genius mind burnt bright against the backdrop of mediocrity, rebelled against the confines of his ridiculous species and this feverish fire drew Loki in until he wanted nothing more than to consume this flame, unmake it like he himself had been unmade and to desecrate and worship the mortal body that imprisoned this exceptional soul.

Loki recalled the moment when he’d made Iron Man his own. His war forgotten, his pride forgotten, he had knelt down beside the struggling mortal and crushed their lips together, his tongue invading the Midgardian warrior’s mouth as his army invaded his planet, taking complete control. And to his surprise Tony had surrendered completely, submitting himself to the intense ministrations of the god with something akin to relief.

Loki stroked himself as his mind relived the experience. While he had had many lovers throughout the ages, none had aroused him so as this mortal who had offered up everything he was, a beautiful and tragically broken creature, pliant and sinfully obedient in the face of a dominant hostile force. 

Their lovemaking had been rushed, fuelled by adrenaline and urged on by the war. Tony had offered himself up, demanding in his surrender, and Loki had not been able to resist, roaming over his body with his hands and with his mouth, tasting every inch of skin while outside the Chitauri poured through the rift in space, an unstoppable force that would enslave the human race.

If only he had had the time then... if he had his freedom now he would not hesitate. He would rush to Midgard to claim the mortal for himself and he would spend forever in mapping out Tony’s body. He would feed him golden apples to prevent his ageing process and they would be together forever.

Yes, Loki thought sadly, as he pretended the fingers around his cock were not his own and he was buried deep inside the mortal Tony Stark also known as Iron Man, his true punishment was that when his imprisonment was over, his lover for one day was long since turned to dust and they would never have the chance to become as one again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so Loki does what Loki wants. Thanks for Chrissy24601 for encouraging me to ride the current XD It feels kinda weird but good to be posting stories to the public. This story goes live unbeta'd as I just typed this up directly after posting the first chapter.


	3. Asgard Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony pays a visit to captive Loki

His hands were trembling so violently he accidentally broke the first glass he tried to pour himself. The glittering shards stuck to his palm and fingers, each fragment of crystal reflecting tiny rainbows, while around them dark red blood welled up from several cuts in his skin.

He turned around and flung the bottle he was holding into the liquor cabinet. The bottle was followed by a heavy stone bust that decorated the coffee table and after that he tore through his apartment until everything breakable was destroyed, smashed to pieces in the wake of his methodical destruction. Not a word passed his lips, not until he was done and sank to his knees amidst the broken furniture, squeezing his shredded hand to a fist, the brightness of the pain a signal that pierced his ink black mood, the first thing he actually felt since Thor had brought him home.

“Fuck.” he whispered.

And then: “Loki.”

***

Thor had come back to earth a few weeks after the battle in New York and told the Avengers and Nick Fury that the All-Father had sentenced Loki to prison until he deemed his adopted son ready to return to court. While it seemed a mild punishment, Thor reminded them all that Aesir lived long and that Loki’s time in prison could easily span multiple human lifetimes. He also told them that Loki had executed the invasion under the influence of Thanos, and that he’d been enslaved to the Tesseract just as Erik Selvig and Hawkeye had been.

And when Tony had been lying on his bed naked, staring up at the canopy, his bed drenched with sweat and come from yet another session of paid rape (because that was what it felt like, every goddamn time) he knew he had to get to Asgard. He had to see Loki, whatever it took, because his unholy desire had turned his blood to acid, a constant burning ache that overshadowed even his worst nightmares from Afghanistan.

_His first impression of Asgard had been one of swagger. The guy Odin sure knew how to put out, because everywhere he had looked he’d seen luxury: tapestries, gilded spires, marble balustrades, furs, thick woven carpets, ivory carvings and gold and more gold. Looking beyond the bling he found incredible science: the magic that this world thrived on as his own planet earth thrived on electricity. He’d felt like a kid in a candy store, which made it all too easy to disguise the true purpose of his visit, the reason behind his careful manipulation of the Thunder God to take the Man of Iron with him to Asgard, the realm of gods._

_He had walked the walk, talked the talk and in the end he had convinced Thor to take him to Loki. The Thunderer himself had not come with; he had hung his head when he explained he could not bear more hatred from the one he had loved as a brother for so long.  
And then Tony had crossed the distance between him and the glass chamber, while his heart had hammered in his chest so hard the sound of its beating seemed to echo in the eerie silence of the prison, the anticipation so much he had felt as if he was suffering from one of his post-Afghanistan panic attacks. And then there had been Loki._

_After living through months of desperation and self-hatred Tony had had to make a conscious effort not to activate the weaponry in his suit and blast himself a way into the prison cell. Here had been the object of his fanatic obsession only a few feet away, and he was unable to touch, unable to take what he wanted so badly, and the intensity of his acute desire had scared the hell out of him._

_Loki had stepped up to the wall, just as he had when the Black Widow had visited him on the helicarrier, only this time his eyes had not been glowing blue and his face had not been as waxen, although still as pale._  
 _“I believe you were quite wrong, Iron Man,” the god had mused, his silky voice crawling over Tony’s flesh and setting the hairs in his neck on end. “There was a version where I came out on top, and as I recall you were all too eager to comply.”_  
 _“Yet here you are, kept in a display case, while the earth still turns and thrives,” Tony had replied, “Tell me again how we would all kneel before you. It was such a turn-on last time.”_  
 _“You pathetic little man,” Loki had hissed then, “when I took you apart you begged me for more. You would have had me destroy you, yet I saved you. Now you come here and dare to mock me when you know I am all but powerless in this... cage?”_  
 _The god had slammed both his hands against the glass, which did not even render a tremor, and had turned away, refusing to look at the spectator at his misery any longer._  
 _It was then Tony had pierced through the veil and had seen the true depth of the despair that held Loki in its grip. Behind the gods eyes was a grey mist, and he only noticed because it had parted for a few seconds when Loki recalled who he was, and had rolled back in before he had finished turning away, undoubtedly fuelled by the disappointment Iron Man had only come to gloat over a defeated enemy._

_It had hit Tony so hard. Loki was giving up, had already given up. His punishment was not his confinement, it was boredom. He was starved of impulses, the monotony of an existence without interaction slowly killing the tricksters will to live. And that was something Tony could relate to.  
“I want you.” he’d whispered. The words had left his mouth without permission. “I will get you out of here.”_

_But his words had fallen on deaf ears and in the end he had no choice but to return to Thor, who had been keeping an eye on them from a distance and who shot him a puzzled look when he’d walked past without comment, wanting to put Loki and his killing cage behind him as fast as possible.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has turned into a series! I'm not surprised, really. I have two more chapters planned, which should wrap up this story nicely. Comments are appreciated. I have no beta, so feel free to point out any mistakes!


	4. Relinquish the void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki soliloquy with angst, memories, some more angst and some fluff

_"I want you. I will get you out of here."_  
He heard the words, the urgent whisper, and he grabbed hold of them as his mind threatened to go numb again. He surprised himself, really. After all these months of imprisonment and the anticipation of months becoming years becoming ages become the rest of his life until Ragnarok would extinguish the heavens and he would die among his kin, an enemy, always a stranger. 

He had not expected someone would come for him. But someone had. Tony Stark, the presumptious human, the one with a darkness in his soul akin to his own and who had not hesitated but offered himself up to the God of Mischief without holding back. His first true worshipper since how long? He had come for Loki and had cruelly thrown him a lifeline, a spark of hope in a world devoid of such a precious sentiment.  
And with that Iron Man had also thoughtlessly torn through the blanket Loki had carefully woven, a thick barrier he had erected between him and everything else, to keep him safe and protected and pleasantly sedated. And now he was naked again before the storm of hurt. And there was so much of it.

Had the All-Father felt it when he had broken the shackles that had chained his mind? Had there been sorrow, regret? Loki had seen none of that in the All-Fathers eye. Disappointment, yes. Resentment, a little? The overwhelming sense of never being good enough, of never being _Thor_ , of being rejected for everything he was not, through no fault of his own. He had given up the day he had let go of Thors hand and willingly let the universe swallow him. He had wanted to die, then, the pain of his failure too much to bear, his heart broken by both the one he had trusted as a father and the one he had worshipped as a brother.   
But who could have foreseen the center of the universe harboured such an evil as Thanos? He had wanted to die, but had found himself enslaved to the Tesseract instead, his pride a source of amusement and ire of the foul being that courted the bringer of death.

Even then, he had fought. He had depleted all his resources, used all his cunning to turn the first invasion of the Chitauri into a catastrophe for Thanos, and he had succeeded in diverting the monster's attention to earth while simoultaneously securing the Tesseract for Odin. He had done all that, even after they had hurt him so, in the hope this would redeem him in his Fathers eye. The court of Asgard concerned him not. He would have gladly humiliated himself publicly -well, not gladly- if Odin had at least given some indication he _understood_ the peril Loki had put himself in, some sign of approval. But there had been that disappointment again, that poorly hidden disgust for having to associate himself with something even the Jotunn had deemed too worthless to live.  
It hurt. It burnt. It tore at him like claws and fangs, it gnawed at his intestines and ate away at his soul like acid. It made his eyes burn with tears he refused to shed and choked him up so he could hardly breathe.  
All this he had managed to bury. He had covered it up, badly but he had succeeded eventually and put it away, in exchange for a brittle peace of mind. He did not deceive himself, knowing the broiling madness underneath would grow and churn and finally devour him. But until it did he would put and end to the pain and let himself slip into welcome lethargy. 

_"I will get you out of here."_  
It wasn't a threat. It was a promise. Iron Man had stood on the other side of the glass wall and his desire had been palpable, even through the cage that was designed to let nothing through, and he had made this promise.  
Loki believed him. His lifeline, his anchor, his laughably slight chance at redemption. The god had donned his mask of control and contempt but had dropped it in the face of honest want. Tony Stark had watched him fall apart, of that he was certain. Yet for some reason the mortal whose world he'd attempted to destroy, whose comrades-in-arms he'd set out to kill had extended his hand, and oh, how he longed to take it! How he hated Stark for it, for breaking through his numb acceptance and rekindling the desire to break out, to live, to release his magic and destroy the people in Asgard who had insulted him and locked him away in a display case forever. But also to visit his mortal, discover if their bodies were truly as compatible as their souls, to take the fragile human between his hands and shelter him from who would do him harm.

And that... that was new. That was kind of fire he had never dealt with, never felt before. It burned, yes, but it warmed him instead of hurting him. He could not go back to his catatonic state without resolving this riddle and while he was bright enough to put a name to the emotion (love) he was also damaged enough not to understand why this feeling was more powerful than all the things Odin had ever done to him. He knew the stories. But he was the monster people frightened their children with and there was no love story for monsters, no happy ending.

_"I want you. I will get you out of here."_  
Iron Man could never get him out. He himself was the only one who could end his imprisonment. But the promise was there and in that moment Loki chose to believe in it, because it was all he had left.

"All-Father, I am ready."


	5. Spiral Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Tony finds Loki

It had been one bitch of a day. His new Mark XV, dubbed Sneaky because it was supposed to be stealthy had seriously let him down due to calibration issues and man, did the minions of M.O.D.O.K. hold a grudge! He’d been punched around the place, shot at _with goddamn cannons_ and some idiot had tried to drive him over with an honest to god _tank_. His body hurt all over and he was sure his legs were imprinted with caterpillar tracks.  
So by the time Tony Stark reached the tower night had already fallen and he’d thought of one hundred and twenty ways to improve Sneaky, basically already laying out plans for the Mark XVI in his head. But when he descended to the platform where Jarvis could dismantle his armour he snapped out of his abstraction.  
Loki. Loki was standing on the terrace that extended from the tower. The sense of deja-vu was so strong that for a moment he thought M.O.D.O.K. had somehow sent him back into the past, to the moment he lived in when he was on downtime, dreamt of when he was sleeping. He nearly stumbled when he reached his landing pad.  
“Sir? Shall I alert the other Avengers?” Jarvis inquired while the AI peeled the damaged suit off Tony.  
"Is this wise, Sir?”  
Tony shrugged, all the while maintaining eye contact with the god. They moved simultaneously towards the penthouse, just like they had last time.  
“I really don’t care, Jarvis. Just do as I tell you.”  
“Yes Sir.”

Control. It was crucial he took control this time, not let himself be overwhelmed. _The rough tiles of the floor against his face, cool fingers exploring his body - his treacherous body that arched into the invasive caresses with an eagerness that still shamed him but that kept him awake at night and made him clench the sheets tightly with one hand as he thrust into the other._   
And damnit! His visitor smirked as if he could read the thoughts off his face and wasn’t that just the most terrifying thing he could think of, telepathy. He steered straight for the bar, just like last time, and poured himself a healthy dose of courage. He poured a second glass, strolled over to where Loki was waiting, just like last time, and handed him the liquor. He raised the glass.   
“Came to collect your drink?”   
The god rolled his eyes.   
"Don’t be a fool, Stark.”   
“Well, anyone in this dimension and the next –if I am to believe Thor _and shit why did he have to bring up this sensitive topic_ – is aware of my extensive collection of rare bottles of booze.”   
At the mention of Thor a shadow flitted across Loki’s face, but it did not linger. Instead, Tony found himself subjected to an intense gaze, and now at least he was certain Loki wasn’t a telepath because he realized there was a boatload of information in that look he wasn’t getting at all. Then again, maybe he was unnecessarily worried because the wordless gaze was followed by a crushing embrace.   
His brains came to a full stop, for the first time since the Chitauri invasion. The moment Loki kissed him, when he felt the thin lips press hard against his own and it was impossible not to give in, that moment became the silence before the storm, when everything holds its breath, or the moment when his lights went out and he began crashing back to earth from so far away. He’d been falling to his death, willingly, knowingly. Another parallel in their fucked up lives. He was falling again now. They both were, clinging to each other and there were no words necessary. He supposed there were no words in the human tongue able to convey the desperation, the need, the intense hunger he felt to become one with this creature.

He should ask questions. Be suspicious, keep the distance, take the reins. Maybe alert the Avengers, or even SHIELD. He should, but he didn’t, because this was what he needed most and its absence the past months had nearly killed him. So he allowed himself sink into the embrace, to wrap his arms around the god, the sensation of smooth skin under his fingers sending shivers down his spine. And there was nothing of the violence that had tinged his desires, nothing of the want for revenge. There was only him and Loki and forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, a small epilogue and then its done. I expected much violence and angry sex, but it turned out differently. I've only written one story before without casualties and with a happy ending, so this is new territory for me. Comments are craved!


	6. In the distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony discovers sometimes fantasies do become reality. Loki does what Loki wants.

Loki lay beneath him on the floor, his hair a splash of darkness, his eyes burning, his lips the only other element of colour against his pale, pale skin. He looked young. Content. Happy. A far cry from the fallen prince on his mad conquest for recognition. Tony could still scarcely believe this was real and he kept expecting the whole situation to turn on him, though in what way he could not tell. He could not keep his eyes of the godling and his fingers gently, persistently caressed the lanky frame, the angular face, never once withdrawing his hands completely for fear Loki would dissolve into the night, disperse like in so many of his nightmares.  
Loki seemed to enjoy his ministrations, leaning into his touches with the selfish surrender of a cat. Tony had to smile at the thought. His own lazy sense of fulfillment was being rapidly overtaken by a current of energy, his dynamic nature demanding him to either go for a second round or to start talking. His curiosity won.  
“What happened?” He asked.  
“I relinquished my claim to the throne of Asgard.” Loki replied simply. “I swore an oath never to return there as anything other than a visitor.”  
“You… Wait, you did what now?” Tony sat back. Thor had always said Loki was driven only by his desire for the throne and the power and the treasures that came with it.  
Loki reached out and took Tony’s hand. Purposefully he kissed the palm, his tongue flicking over the soft, warm flesh, dragging a moist trail over to the tip of the index finger. When he opened his mouth and gently sucked the digit, Tony inhaled sharply. Loki apparently had other things on his mind, things that didn’t involve talking about why exactly he’d decided to drop by, and truth be told, Tony was absolutely fine with that and _Jesus_ , it shouldn’t be legal, the way that wicked tongue curled around his finger, no, two fingers now, and those long, slender fingers that wrapped around his cock and _squeezed_ it, just so, and the cold amusement glinting in those eyes made him feel overpowered, insignificant, drove him mad…

Loki saw the Iron Man fall apart before him, and didn’t he just do that so beautifully? It took so little to ignite the passion of this man, and he admired how the human gave all, no holds barred, just as they both did in combat.  
Tony’s cock swelled under his touch, no doubt aching for the same treatment as Loki had been giving his calloused fingers. It looked delicious, thick, throbbing, the head glistening with a tiny thread of pre-cum. He rolled over to his side and bent forward to lap at the drops, the bitter salt intoxicating his senses. He dragged Tony’s dripping fingers to the cleft between his cheeks, pushing his ass against them, willing the mortal to understand what he needed, while he opened his mouth and took that obscene cock deep down his throat, moaning needily. He loved the building pressure within him; being fucked in his mouth and his ass was electrifying but it was never enough, and when the fingers pushed deep inside him he clenched and choked, and the guttural growl his reaction brought forth reverberated through his entire body.

The sight of Loki debasing himself like this, the _real_ Loki, not some poorly chosen substitute, nearly drove Tony out of his mind. He’d fucked those boys in a sad attempt to channel his unholy desires, because oh, how he’d wanted it to be _Loki_ to scream his name, to beg for mercy, for release, just like he’d begged when the god had taken him, all these months ago. The frustration and anger of all those months now suddenly rekindled. He withdrew his fingers and his cock without warning and twisted the lordling on his stomach, dragging him up so he could ride his swollen, dripping cock against his exposed hole. Loki hissed, angry or aroused, Tony was beyond caring, completely consumed by his unrelenting desire to take, take it all, take what he felt he was entitled to after being denied it for so long, and after a few experimental thrusts he pushed the throbbing head of his cock over the rim, inside the unbearably tight asshole. For a moment Loki fought him, but after a short battle for dominance the god underneath him surrendered and Tony buried himself deep within the lanky body. Loki cried out, a wordless scream, yet he pushed back to take the Iron Man even deeper inside, while his spindly hands clawed helplessly over the stone cold floor.  
They had no time to settle into a rhythm. This was so close to, so beyond all of Tony’s filthiest imaginings, that it took only a few erratic thrusts for him to come harder than he had ever before and dazed he collapsed on the thin frame below him, his mind short-circuited from the sensory overload.  
He’d hardly regained consciousness when Loki shook him off.  
“Open your eyes, Stark.”  
It was a command, not a request. Tony rolled on his back and opened his eyes to a sight that took his breath away. Loki was standing over him, shamelessly naked, endlessly tall, his cock springing forward like a blade. Beyond that was his knowing smile, _so fucking composed_ , and his eyes, looking down on him from within the shadows cast over his face, the intensity of his gaze crushing Tony with all the weight of countless years.  
Hypnotised Tony watched as the former prince folded his hand around the base of his length and started to stroke himself, a languid process, while his eyes never looked away. After a while his grip tightened, his breath quickened and his hips bucked, and Tony found himself breathing heavily, faintly echoing the movements that came faster and faster until Loki released himself, shooting strands of sticky fluid over Tony’s face, his neck and even over the arc reactor.

Tony lay on his back, covered in drying, bitter semen, looking up stunned at the impassive god towering over him and trying to process what had just happened. Then Loki relaxed his stance and his features mellowed into a smile. Chuckling he extended a hand and pulled Tony to his feet and soon they were both laughing, slightly giddy from what had just transpired between them.

After they had cleaned themselves up and had gotten dressed in their disheveled clothes Loki handed Tony a slip of paper, covered in odd looking symbols. Tony thought they were runes but he wasn’t sure.  
“What’s this?” He asked.  
Loki quirked an eyebrow. “You will need this to contact me.”  
Tony felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Are you _leaving_?” That small note of panic to his voice was certainly imaginary.  
“Of course.” Loki eyed him quizzically. “What else did you expect?”  
To that Tony had no answer. What had he expected? Loki could hardly come live at the Avengers HQ; there were too many people who wanted a piece of him and when Fury found out he was bound to demand Loki be transferred into SHIELD custody. And to keep him imprisoned at the top of the tower, confined to Tony’s personal quarters… while the thought held a certain appeal, that was not what he wanted.  
“I will come back to you, Stark. And you will come to me. We will work together in the future, for I have several projects which would benefit from your expertise, and perhaps even from the expertise of the good doctor Banner, provided the beast is on a leash.”  
Tony nodded. He did not trust himself to speak. It wasn’t him to be so overcome with his emotions, but then again, it wasn’t anyone who he was feeling them for.  
“As long as you do. Come back, I mean.” He finally managed to say.  
“I will. You have my word.” Loki’s smile was a thing of beauty. It made him look carefree and it was easy to see why Thor had been so reluctant to give up on his younger brother.  
“Stark… Anthony… I…”

“Sir, my protocols are being overridden,” Jarvis suddenly declared. “Despite my efforts the other Avengers have detected your visitor’s presence. They are now approaching from outside as well as through the elevator shaft.”  
“Ah,” Loki grinned, “Time to go, I believe. We will meet again.”  
He stole a quick kiss and before Tony could reply he vanished and not a moment too soon because next thing the window pane shattered and Thor and the Falcon came rushing through, closely followed by Spiderman. Their readiness for battle dissolved when they realized Tony was alone, and the situation quickly became awkward as they began to notice Tony’s stained and crumpled clothes, the flush of his cheeks and the smell of sex in the room.

It took some time but eventually he had the other Avengers convinced Loki had a) not hypnotized him, b) had not stolen anything of tactical value and c) was not scheming to take over the world. Though he could not be certain of any of it, the latter statement was supported by Thor who told them what had transpired in Asgard and the events that had led up to the end of Loki’s imprisonment.  
And when he finally, after what seemed hours of grilling, came back to his room, he remembered the slip of paper Loki had given him. Runes were not his forte, but hey, he had not built his AI for nothing, so he ordered Jarvis to decipher the message.  
“I believe it is a sequence of numbers, Sir.” Jarvis said smartly after a few seconds.  
Tony looked at the digits appearing on his screen. He burst out laughing when he realized what he was staring at.

**“I survived the inquisition. Hope to see you soon – T.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this epilogue? It turned out the boys had other things on their mind. Damn, I had so not planned to write this! But I love the sex. It's hard to write it and not get carried away by how insanely hot these two are together :D


End file.
